I Used to Love ThreeDay Weekends
by zipporah grace
Summary: A three-day camping trip goes awry for Danny and his mom when an unexpected guest shorts on Danny's power, even transformation. What will happen when his mom finds Phantom and not Fenton? Revelation fic. I hope this doesn't end up being corny. Rated T because I said so. Review, please!
1. Just Normal Teenager Stuff

**Hey guys! I'm having some writer's block with my Shamy fic at the moment. Like, HUGE writer's block. But my Danny Phantom fangirl is like a living typewriter right now. So here's the first chapter of hopefully another fic that I won't get stuck on.**

**-ZG**

**#**

For the record, I used to like three-day weekends.

Before the accident, it was a time for hanging with Tuck and Sam and sleeping in. No Dash to give me atomic wedgies every passing period, no teachers yelling book titles in moments of surprise, and no testing out my parent's inventions, because I would be out for the day.

However, in the past year, three-day weekends became a nightmare.

I could give myself an excuse to not go after a ghost when I was at school. My detention slip pile was on its way to towering over Mt. Everest. But three-day weekends became patrol-central. Constant fighting, capturing, and bantering all in an exhausting hell of 96 hours.

But this three-day weekend, oh this one topped it off. Because I wasn't going to be patrolling Amity Park, oh no.

I was going on a camping trip with my mom.

After our escapade with Vlad in the woods Mom thought nature had to do with bonding. She had tried to convince me to go on a weekend camping trip with her every week since. I usually told her I had homework to do, and that being gone for one day would never be enough.

Then this damn three-day weekend pops up. It's the end of the grading period, which means no homework (and for the first and only time I'm sad about it) and it means two to three days of parental bonding.

I try to get Tuck and Sam to make an excuse, telling them that I need to patrol the city. But they say that they can patrol it on their own. They have ten thermoses in Sam's backpack and all the weaponry a ghost hunter needs.

I would be mad at them if I weren't too distracted by my mom packing our things.

"Mom, we don't need our winter coats," I tell her as she is stuffing the bulky outerwear into a suitcase. "It's spring!"

"You can never be too careful, dear," my mom dismisses quickly, ignoring my comment and packing the coats anyways. She zips it up tight. "That's the last one. Now, give me your cell phone."

I defensively cradle my phone in between my hands, hunching and looking at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because in order for this to be a mother-son bonding trip I can't have you texting your friends, of course!" she explains. She attempts to grab the device. "Now give me the cell phone."

I can't. This thing is like my kid. I could never abandon it. I keep my defense.

Mom smiles and slyly snatches the phone away from me. I'm dumbfounded. I can fly as fast as a commercial airline, but somehow she's too quick for me. I look at my empty hands as she locks the phone in a box, along with my Nintendo and a couple of her own devices. She slides the key in her pocket.

"There. No distractions."

I whimper a little. It looks like Tucker's love for technology has grown on me.

We pack everything into the RV. And this time, it is _only_ an RV. Mom made Dad disable all the weapons for the weekend. All she has to protect herself from ghosts were the Specter Deflector, a pocket-sized Fenton Bazooka, and a thermos.

And me, now that I think about it. But she'd be more interested in hunting me than thanking me.

That's the worst aspect of this entire weekend: no ghost powers.

Even if we suddenly were in great danger I can't do anything but be a defenseless teenager. If she knew, I would expect lab testing for days on end, or even worse…ripping me apart molecule by molecule.

So, for now, Danny Phantom doesn't exist. He is taking a small break from Amity Park. At the moment, there is only Danny Fenton.

"Come on, sweetie, get inside!" Mom tells me sweetly. I sigh and climb in the passenger seat, looking at the last bit of civilization I'm sure I'll ever see for the next three days.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Mom squeals.

"Yeah," I agree, faking a laugh. "So much fun."

Mom frowns. "Now, Danny, don't be so pessimistic! The campgrounds are fun and have a lot of sites to explore, and I'm sure getting away from all this pressure for the weekend will help with your insomnia."

I had almost forgotten. After finding me walking around the lab during the dead of night too many times my parents made me a doctor's appointment. He had diagnosed me with insomnia, which I was okay with. Much better than diagnosing me with, "Mad-Ghost-Boy Disease".

"It's a shame those pills didn't work," Mom continues.

"Yeah," I agree again, remembering the moment when I dumped the orange container in the dumpster. They were making me so sleepy the Box Ghost almost got the best of me. "Such a shame." I look over to her. "You're still wearing the jumpsuit?"

She keeps her eyes on the road but acknowledges my comment. "Yes, I thought it was more comfortable than that retched flannel shirt and cotton shorts I wore before. Your father was right, sweetie. Polyester _is _more soothing."

"Good to know," I comment.

It's silent for a couple minutes, and I continue to gaze out the window. Ten minutes in and no ghosts. That's good.

"So," Mom says, trying to pick the conversation back up. "What have you and your friends been up to lately?"

I'm caught off guard. I've lied and told her and Dad multiple things: we're studying, out at the movies, doing movie marathons…but suddenly I've been thrown off.

"Uh…oh, nothing much, you know," I stumble. "Just normal teenager stuff that normal teenagers do."

She raises an eyebrow. "And what would normal teenagers be doing?"

"Just…stuff," I answer simply, and on the inside I'm slapping myself.

She glares over at me. "You aren't doing any drugs or alcohol, are you?" she asks.

"What?" I ask, confused. "No! We just go the mall and hang out." _And catch ghosts on a regular basis_, I almost add under my breath, but she's too close not to hear. I swallow the last bit and stay silent.

"That's nice to hear," she says. "And I better not find you with any drugs or alcohol anytime soon, young man."

"Trust me, you won't," I reassure her. After all, I'm too busy capturing Skulker to even go to parties with alcohol and drugs.

"Good. So, how are you and Sam?"

I raise my eyebrows and frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You two have been hanging out a lot lately, I'm just checking if-"

"No! No, it's not like—okay, it sort of is, but it isn't. And I know and I'm pretty sure she knows that I know, too, but it's just…" I sigh. "It's complicated."

The sad thing is, that's fairly accurate.

"Ah, young love," my mom muses. "I remember when your father and I were in college…"

"That's nice to know," I interrupt bitterly. I just want to get to that campground so I have an excuse to walk around. I'm already cramping up.

Mom sighs. "I just want to get to know you better, Danny. You've been a little distant lately."

That catches my attention. I thought I had been hiding it pretty well. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"Honey, don't act like we don't know that your grades are slipping. And you spend all your time either in your room or in the lab. Heck, I think you spend more time in the lab than your father!"

"I'm just curious about ghost hunting is all," I lie…sort of.

"I know, I know. And I love that you're getting interested in the family legacy. Maybe one night us two can go out and try to catch that _Inviso-Bill._" She seethes at my poorly-chosen public name.

I grimace. "Yeah…maybe."

Mom notices my hesitation. "You're not a fan of this ghost boy, are you? I thought with Jazz it would just be a phase, but-"

"I don't hate him," I admit. "He's okay. I mean, he's taking down ghosts for the safety of Amity Park. I haven't seen him do anything harmful."

"What about kidnapping the mayor and stealing all that jewelry?"

I rub the back of my neck and try to keep a good composure. "I'm sure those could possibly be some sort of misunderstanding."

Mom snorts. "Yeah, right. What do your father and I always say, Danny?"

"Once a ghost, always a ghost," I grumble.

"And what are ghosts?" she leads on cheerfully.

"Evil," I mutter, sinking into my chair.

It's silent again for a good ten minutes. I look out the window and watch my breath. Half an hour into the trip and no ghosts.

"How much longer until we get to the campgrounds?" I ask. The tension and awkwardness is suffocating me.

"Just another ten minutes," Mom answers. "I'm so excited! From the brochure I got in the mail the place looks wonderful!"

"Can I see the brochure?" I ask. Maybe, for once, reading will a distraction.

"It's in the glove compartment," she tells me.

I fish it out. "Have the time of your life at Camp Urd-Eath. Hike, bike, swim, and have tons of mother-son-get-together-ness. Funded by the Vermont Luis-Ann Diocese." I look up. "Great. A mother-son camp funded by nuns."

**#**

**So did you like it? Was it too bitter? Too OOC? Too…anything? Tell me in the reviews. And I'll try to work on my Shamy fic once I figure out what to do with it, my TBBT readers. Don't grow too impatient.**

**-ZG**


	2. One Year

**Hey guys! I'm glad you liked that first chapter. I'll update as fast as I can, but I want to make these chapters full of content for you all. So, be expecting an update at least a day away at the shortest, and a week at the longest. I'm still trying to piece together my Shamy fic at the moment, but I feel like I've just been in a Ghost Portal accident and Danny Phantom is running through my veins! Thanks for the reviews and keep them up!**

**Disclaimer: never owned Danny Phantom. Probably never will.**

**-ZG**

**#**

We roll up to the campsite.

Considering it to be a three-day weekend, I would expect more sons being dragged by their moms to the camp. But the parking lot is empty.

"Huh," Mom says, eyeing the deserted lot. "Maybe the rest are coming tomorrow."

"Yeah," I say, getting suspicious. "Maybe."

"Well, we should unpack and get to the campsite. It's getting dark."

I nod and I throw my heavy camping gear onto my back. I groan at the weight of the equipment. If I went ghost I could carry it with ease, but I can't here. Mom is watching.

The entrance to the camp is a huge wooden sign with the words "Camp Urd-Eath" painted in blue. The sign pointing to the campgrounds points us down a gravel pathway.

"Well, this doesn't look creepy," I say, standing before the darkened pathway. I look up. "What? No lightning?"

Mom smiles. "Cheer up! It's the perfect setting to tell scary stories by the campfire. And I have this." She holds up the Fenton Wrist Rays. She must have slipped them past me somehow. She points them towards me for a split second and I involuntarily flinch. She looks at me, puzzled, and puts the rays in front of her. "They also double as lanterns." The tiny ray guns fire radiation-green beams of light that illuminate the pathway. "Now come on, we've got a tent to pitch!"

I sigh and follow her.

**#**

I have no idea about what has gotten into Danny today. It's just a simple camping trip, nothing more.

Then again, he hasn't been the same since the portal started working. I have no idea how he got it to work, but by the looks of it the event wasn't pretty. He was disheveled and shaking. I told him that we should get him tested for radiation but he flat out refused, saying that nothing happened other than the fact that he was forced back into the wall.

I expected that something in him would change from his exposure to the ectoplasm. Maybe an extra leg or a ghostly parasite at the worst. And that whole month I feared my baby would suddenly turn into a mixture of carbon and ectoplasmic radiation.

We had been lucky. The only major side effects were the fact that he made our detectors malfunction (most likely from the exposure) and his breath being sporadically visible and chilly. He was still our normal, human Danny.

But he became so distant and angry all of a sudden. He would run off randomly, come down the stairs in the morning looking like he had been thrown into the dumpster, and his grades were depleting. He wasn't getting any sleep, but we soon had that fixed. Jazz was concerned at first, and then suddenly she was supporting his actions. Jack (sweet, sweet Jack) was too busy in the lab to notice the drastic changes when they happened.

He became fidgety, too. Especially when that ghost boy started showing up. Every time his breathe got colder, every time someone mentioned that infernal ectoplasmic adolescent, and on our whole incident with Vlad he barely touched me. And now, as I simply pointed the ray guns in his direction for a split second he looked like I was about to blast him to pieces.

We walk down the pathway. It doesn't seem so bad compared to Colorado forest terrain we had to go through before. I keep searching for a campsite, or maybe even a director's office. I see slightly dilapidated buildings, but as I look at the signs they all say "Not in Service" with a little cross on the bottom.

Danny is right behind me, but keeping his distance. He stares ahead stoically, breathing in deeply. His whole self just seethes concentration. He's tired, I can tell, and he wants to set up camp fast. I smile at his determination, hoping to break the barrier. But he just stares on ahead.

I hear a rustle and am about to react when I gaze upon a sign that says "Campsite A3". Relieved and excited, I point to it. "I found the campsite!" I tell him. I turn off one of my ray guns and take him by the arm, leading him to the designated space.

"It's a little dark. But I'll just start up a campfire and we can rest for the night, okay?"

I look over to Danny. In the green light I can see he's in a bit of a daze, hand on his forehead. His hair is making a slight sizzling sound. He swaying, losing his balance.

"Danny?" I ask, concerned. "Are you okay?"

I am about to reach out for him when he swipes me away and steadies himself. "I'm fine. Why are you wearing the Specter Deflector anyways?"

I stare at him blankly. Isn't it obvious? "To protect myself from ghosts," I answer simply.

"Yeah, well you've got a machete and a stash of laser guns for that, too. So could you just take it off?" he suggests bitterly.

I look at him, confused, but comply. "Does it hurt you?"

He looks at me, wild-eyed. He starts laughing. "Why would you—why would you think that?"

I smooth out his frazzled hair. "Perhaps that ectoplasmic exposure still hasn't worn off from the accident," I suggest, trying to find a possible theory. "Though, it has been a year since last week."

"Yeah," he agrees quickly. "That sounds right." He grins. "Just that little exposure."

I raise an eyebrow, but dismiss his behavior. He's probably just exhausted. I know I am.

**#**

_A year since last week._

Only a year? Jesus, it felt like a lifetime for me.

In one year I had fought, what, two hundred ghosts? At the least. And I'd saved the Ghost Zone once or twice. Saved the future once. Been through my excruciating transformation twice. Acquired a plethora (hey, I actually used that word correctly! Take that, Lancer) of ghostly powers and ghostly enemies. Overshadowed my parents at least ten times. Had been hunted down by Valerie more times than I can count. Became Amity Park's #1 criminal and their beloved hero. One year, and I had done all of that.

One year of being Danny Phantom, and my parents still had no clue.

Mom had built the fire a couple minutes ago and set up our tents. I rolled out my sleeping bag and realized: a whole _year._ And in that year I had risked my life more times than my dad had accidentally blown up one of his inventions. I stared at the fire and chuckled slightly; Mom and Dad still had no idea.

It was the greatest lie I'd ever told.

Though, I had to give Sam props for coming up with the "ectoplasm exposure" excuse. They didn't eye me suspiciously when their tracking devices lead to me like they did those first two weeks after the accident. Just type up a fake bloodstream analysis (I don't even want to know how Tucker could pull up such a thing) and I got a free card.

But it had been a year, and the effects should've started to wear off if it was apparently such a small exposure. If it had actually been a _big_ exposure, it was going to stay. And using the exposure card in five years, if I survived until then, probably wasn't going to work.

I snap out of my thoughts when I feel my breath get chilly. A blue wisp escapes my throat.

"Oh no," I bemoan, hiding my head under my pillow.

Mom looks at me, puzzled. "Danny, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Not here, not now," I complain. A rustle comes from somewhere around us.

Mom goes wide-eyed and pulls out the wrist gun. Slowly and slyly getting up from her tent she aims towards the origin of the sound.

"Freeze ghost scum!" she cries.

Out from the bushes emerges an old nun. Her skin is a pale green, but could easily be passed off as a reflection of the ray gun. Her dress hides her feet, which for all I know are floating.

"No need," the nun says fragilely. "I am Sister Viola Samster, the head of this camp."

Mom slowly puts the weapon down and sighs. "Oh, thank God! I thought this place was deserted."

I analyze at the ghostly woman, trying to figure out if I had met her before.

"I just came here to welcome you to camp Urd-Eath," Sister Viola says. "And that breakfast will be served in the morning. Where is your son?"

"Danny? He's right there." She points to me. I peek out of the pillow. "Oh, I should probably get you that check for our stay here."

The nun nods. As my mom scours her tent the nun glares at me with bloodshot, pupil-less eyes. She grins, revealing razor-sharp teeth. "Perfect," she hisses. "The gang is all here."

I glare back her, and I can feel it. My eyes glowing and turning green. I growl at her lowly, but stop the minute my mom comes out of the tent, hiding myself under the pillow again.

She hands the nun the check. "There you go," she says.

The nun returns to her sweet disposition. "Thank you," she says. She turns to me and her voice lowers. "Sweet dreams."

And with that, she disappears back into the darkness.

"She's a nice lady, isn't she?" Mom comments. "Nuns are always adorable."

"And apparently deadly," I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?" Mom asks.

I take my pillow off my head and lay down on it. "Nothing."

I take out the brochure and begin analyzing it. _Flunded by the __**V**__ermont __**L**__uis-__**A**__nn __**D**__iocese._ Vlad. I should've guessed that. Then again, I've never been too god with acronyms.

Camp Urd-Eath.

Camp Urdeath.

Camp _Your Death._

Even though he was grammatically challenged, I had to admit that Vlad was pretty creative when it came to making up places to lure Mom and me here. _At least he didn't just put DALV all over the brochure_, I think, trying to find an excuse so that I don't have to slap myself in stupidity. I flip to the back page.

"Land donated by the DALV Group," I read aloud in a whisper. I hit myself on the head. "Stupid, Fenton, stupid!"

That's it. I have to figure out what's going on. Vlad is up to something.

I wait five minutes before I start moving again. I get up from my tent. Mom stirs.

"Sweetie, where are you going?" she asks.

"Uh…going to the bathroom?" I guess.

She yawns. "Okay, you go do that," she says sleepily, and settles back in again.

"Whew," I say outwardly, and I find the nearest tree so that I can change. Ironically, it fits my excuse. Huh, who would've guessed?

My usual battle cry is kept silent so that I don't wake up my mom. I feel the shiver that goes down my spine as two halos start cascading up from my waist. My usual clothes change into a black and white Hazmat suit. I open my eyes and I know for sure that I have changed. Ghosts can see better in the dark, and now all of the black nothingness is full of sharply outlined trees and bushes.

My ghost sense goes off again. Looking around the tree to see if my mother is asleep, I turn invisible and start walking (or rather, floating. After some time it's hard to tell the difference) around to investigate.

Five minutes into my search I start hearing voices. My ghost sense goes off again, and I know that I'm close.

"Are you sure the boss will get what he wants?" someone asks. "Because if he doesn't that's another thousand years on your jail time."

"Yes, yes, of course," someone else says, and I recognize the voice. I could a mile away if I had to. "Just as long as you don't harm the woman."

I look up to see Vlad Plasmius all decked out in his ghost garb. He's talking with a green ghost in a police uniform. _One of Walker's goons_, I realize.

"I must say, I was surprised that he approved of this exchange for your freedom so quickly," the ghost policeman commented.

"He's been searching for Daniel and that wolf-thing even more since the ghost boy set the canine free," Vlad explained. "I simple trapping and exchange of such prizes would be enough to free five prisoners at the most."

"Don't underestimate the boss," the policeman warned. "He ain't so keen on giving someone the slip."

Vlad ignores the policeman's warning. "You played an excellent nun out there."

The ghost, as if on cue, changes into Sister Viola Samster. Hold on, since when can Walker's goons shape-shift?

"I'm not much of a fan of wearing a dress," the ghost tells him.

"You won't have to wear it much longer," Vlad reassures him. "Because by morning tomorrow everything will be accomplished. Now, go back to your squad and tell Walker I have them set up perfectly. I must go visit an old enemy of mine."

I gasp and flying back to the campsite. Behind the tree and transform and quickly sneak back under my sleeping bag, turning my face away from where Vlad will be coming. I'm wide awake, taking in every sound I hear.

"Oh, Daniel," I hear. "Naïve, pompous Daniel. You could've chosen to follow me, but instead you follow your idiot of a father. You could've become powerful and safe from all the dangers being a halfa would bring. But you chose wrong. You chose to oppose me. And now, finally, you will pay."

I wait a couple minutes and hear nothing. I turn around to see that he is gone.

_We'll pay_, I recall. I get up from my sleeping bag and walk over to the other side of the now simmering fire.

It's time to wake up Mom. We need to get the hell out of here.

**#**

**I know that it's a bit of a cliffhanger, don't kill me! Next chapter is in the works. So tell me how I did in the reviews please! You guys are A LOT more anxious about updating than my previous fanfiction crowds. I like it!**

**-ZG**


	3. Of Wulfs and Fruit Loops

**Okay, so I forgot to mention. This is set after season 2 but before season 3. Even though I'm an Amethyst Ocean shipper, I like to pretend sometimes that most of season 3 didn't happen.**

**-ZG**

**#**

I wake up to my son shaking me like mad.

"Danny?" I ask, confused. "What's going on?"

"Mom, there's uh, a um…a forest fire! Yeah, a forest fire! We need to go," he explains.

I look around. The only blaze I see is the campfire. "I see no forest fire," I tell him.

He looks around. "A hurricane?"

I lick my finger and hold it up in the air. "No strong winds. Danny, what's wrong?"

He looks down and admits quietly. "I…I saw a ghost."

"_A ghost?_" I repeat, standing up immediately. I pull the mini-bazooka out from under my sleeping bag. "Where is he?"

"No, mom there are too many. I, uh, saw them passing by the campsite. We need to leave. Now."

I look at him and I can tell that he's disturbed.

I put the bazooka down. The whine it produces dies down. "Okay, sweetie. We'll just go get into the RV."

"We can't, the ghosts probably have it," he tells me. I look at him, puzzled. How could he know how the ghosts were moving? "I saw them head towards the entrance," he tells me. He's already packing up his things. "They've got the RV surrounded by now. We need to get into the woods…or, something."

I nod. "We just need to pack up our things and-"

His breath becomes visible again. Danny goes wide-eyed. "No time," he says. "Grab the weapons."

I'm surprised by the authority my son is showing here. After all, I know more about ghosts than he does. But he's acting like this has happened before. I leave my things behind anyways. He seems too serious about this to ignore him.

He takes my arm and drags me into the woods. It's pitch black in the shade of the trees but he's moving through the bushes and branches with ease.

"Danny, how can you see so well?" I ask. While he's dragging me I'm attempting to pull my mask over my head. My goggles have night vision.

"I don't know; youth have better eyesight than adults?" he guesses. I start catching up with him, and for a split second I see his face. Are his eyes _green_? I blink, and they're blue, normal.

Danny trips of a root.

"Not as god as you'd think," I tell him, and set my goggles to night vision. I help him up. "Come on. We need to find a landline."

"What about our cell phones?" he asks.

"No service," I explain quickly. "I checked when we got here."

"Great," he mumbles.

We trek for a couple more minutes. I pull out my Fenton Machete and start slicing the greenery that blocks us.

"Well I certainly wasn't expecting this to happen," I confess.

"I was," Danny says. "No offense, Mom, but any time we go into the wilderness weird stuff happens." His voice gets quieter and he looks down. "_And it's probably my fault_."

I stop slicing. "What was that?"

He looks up at me. "What was what?"

"You were saying that all this was your fault."

He blinks. "Oh, you heard that?"

I shake my head. "It's never your fault, Danny. We're ghost hunters. Ghosts are bound to show up wherever we go. And with ghosts come the possibility for weird stuff." We start trekking again.

"Like I didn't already know that," he mumbles.

I sigh. "If we're going to make it out of here alive I will have no more of that snippy attitude you've got," I tell him.

"Fine."

I decide to move on to the situation at hand. "Did you recognize any of the ghosts you saw?" I ask.

He looks at me, surprised. "Why would think that I'm familiar with any ghosts?"

"I don't," I say, keeping my focus on cutting down the branch up ahead. "But considering that your school and, well, the whole city is infested with them you might recognize one."

"Oh," he exhales, looking relieved. He regains his composure. "Uh, yes. Yes I did recognize one."

"And which ball of slimy afterlife was it?" I ask.

"Vla—I mean, the Wisconsin Ghost," he says.

"Huh," I say. "Curious. Being the Wisconsin Ghost one would think he'd be in Wisconsin."

"Yeah, you'd think."

I slice another bush and hit something that sounds metallic. I pause and raise an eyebrow.

Uncovering a couple leaves I look at the item. "It's a chain fence," I tell Danny. I brush away a couple more leaves and accidentally graze the fence with my hand. A jolt sends up my arm. "Electrically charged." I pull out my mini bazooka. "Maybe I can blast its way through."

I back Danny and myself up a couple feet and fire. For a moment, the fence absorbs the blast of energy and I believe it will break, but it soon bounces the beam back at us. We duck.

"Well that didn't work," Danny comments.

We hear a rustle from behind us.

My maternal instincts kick in. "Danny, stay back," I order, and he hides behind me.

A roar erupts as the creature leaps out. It's wolf-like, but as big as a grizzly bear. Its eyes glow same green as its ripped green clothing. It's fur is pitch black, so black it even stands out here in the dead of night. It's an ugly creature, I have to say that. Its gray muzzle is wrinkled and scarred and its mouth bares sharp teeth as it snarls.

"Mi bezonas eskapi!" it growls.

I aim the bazooka at it. "Get away from us!" I cry, and shoot at it. The wolf-ghost-creature flies into a tree, nearly knocking the plant off its roots.

It stands up, brushing itself off, and growls again.

"Danny, I want you run," I tell my son. I turn to see that he is standing where he is, not moving. He doesn't look worried, but more confused.

"Vi vundis min!" the creature screams. It charges at me and I have the gun poised. But I am caught off guard when I notice the claws. They're three feet long, razor sharp, and glowing.

It swipes at me. It doesn't use its claws at me, but hits me with his paw. I am thrown into a tree, and everything is fuzzy.

_Danny,_ I think. _Is he okay?_

I try to find a haze that resembles my son. He's in front of the best, but nothing is happening. They're not fighting.

I finally settle into unconsciousness.

**#**

Wulf is growling before me. Mom is knocked out against a tree. Vlad and Walker are after me and (most likely) Wulf. We're trapped by an electric fence. There's no cell reception. And the RV is most likely gone.

Yep, this wins at award of Worst Weekend Ever.

I smile at Wulf and raise up my hands in surrender.

"Wulf, it's me," I say. "Danny."

"Danny?" Wulf repeats. He gets close to me and sniffs me. He then proceeds to give me the mother of all bear hugs. "Danny! Mi ne vidis vin en tiel longa!"

"Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it?" I choke out, unable to breathe. Yes, I caught up on my Esperanto. It's a good thing I did. "Now, if you could please put me down…"

Wulf complies.

"Now why are you here?" I ask him.

"Walker provas trovi min," he explains.

"Yeah, Walker's trying to get me, too," I agree.

"Kiu estas la damo kiu vundis min?" Wulf asks.

"The lady who hurt you?" I repeat, confused. He points to Mom. "Oh, she's my mom. She's kind of a ghost hunter. Sorry."

"Ŝi ne scias pri viaj povoj?" he asks.

"No, she doesn't know a thing. Neither does my dad." I realize the situation we're in. "We need to get out of here."

Wulf nods. "La barilo doloras homoj kaj fantomoj," he tells me.

I can't understand it. "What was that with a fence?" I ask.

"Fence," he says. "Ghosts. Humans. Hurt."

"Oh, great," I say. "That kills my plan to phase us through." I look up. "Maybe I can fly over it. I could carry you and Mom. I get stronger when I go ghost."

Wulf nods. "Bona plano," he compliments.

"Thanks," I say. I stand away, checking to see if Mom is still knocked out. She's breathing and moving a little, but not stirring so much that I'm practically screwed either way. I take a deep breath. "Going ghost!"

The shiver runs down my back. Everything changes as the halos pass by. I could swear, if my life was a TV show there'd be some damn good dramatic shots of me right now. But my life isn't a TV show, so I'm just standing in the woods as a white-haired kid is a Hazmat suit.

"You first," I say to Wulf. "As long as Mom stays there I don't think they'll find her."

I fly up and grab Wulf by the scruff of his neck. He's much lighter than what he looks. First of all, he's a ghost, so that sheds some pounds. And my strength makes him a feel as light as a text book. I turn us invisible and start flying.

Easily passing through the trees I'm happy to see that the fence is only so high.

"Vlad, you always underestimate," I say to myself.

I easily get over the fence, still wary for anything that might seem out of the ordinary. I set Wulf down.

"There. You're free for now," I tell Wulf. "Go off and find another dimension for now before Walker comes by."

"Dankon," he says.

I smile. "You're welcome. And if you need help, just sniff me out anytime. But make sure my Mom isn't around. That bazooka really hurts."

Wulf grimaces and puts his hand on the place of impact. He nods. "Mi esperas vidi vin denove," he says.

"Yeah, I hope to see you, too. But let's make sure we're not being hunted, okay?" I look back over to the fence. "I've got to go get my mom. Good luck out there."

Wulf nods, smiles, and runs off into the darkness. Hopefully him and Mom won't have another encounter while we're in the woods.

I turn invisible again and fly back over. My mom is still slumped against the tree. I quickly examine her, making sure she isn't dead. She's got a pulse, and her breathing _looks_ normal. I'm not exactly a med student, but she looks fine except for the fact that she's passed out.

I scoop her up quickly and start flying when I feel a jolt got through my leg. Another red ecto-blast barely misses my head. I stare ahead to see the ever pompous and ever bitter Vlad Plasmius.

"Ah, Daniel," he says, flying towards me. I start trying to fly away, but he grabs me by the back of my suit. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same to you," I retort. I hold onto my mom tightly. I am _not_ letting this creep get a hold of her.

"I tried to act rationally, believe me," he lies. And I can tell he's lying because he's using _that voice_. The one that is supposed to be calm and reassuring but just makes you feel like you're about to be skinned alive. "But you just _had _to find out about the plan, didn't you? You could've easily gone to the prison and escaped with ease once you turned human. But no, you had to be the hero."

"What is this leading up to Plasmius? You aren't getting me or my mom if I have anything to say about it." I'm steaming. This guy just immediately makes my anger flare just by thinking about him. I smirk. "You getting too bored? I told you that a cat would make your life interesting."

He frowns. "Very funny, Daniel. But now my motives have changed. Now I just want to see you suffer."

"Oh, that wasn't the motive before?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, the motive was to simply get myself free of Walker. But now I realize that even if I am captured I can easily escape with my human form," he explains to me. "No, now I plan to see your life fall. After all, what could be more problematic than your mother seeing you in your ghost form?"

My rage is interrupted. "Wait, what?"

Vlad pulls out a small box with two tiny antennae poking out. I recognize it.

"You like it? It's the Plasmius Maximus 2.0. Shorts out all ghost powers for a good 24 hours now, _including_ transformation. Though, I think a good five minutes with your mother like this will have you _begging_ for the afterlife."

Before I can react he jabs the device at me. I feel the shock course through my body and I'm recalling the sensation of starting up the portal. The pain stops and Mom is suddenly getting heavier. Vlad lets me go.

"I would hurry along, Daniel. You're powers are depleting by the second," Vlad tells me.

I'm struggling to keep myself up in the air. "What are you going to get out of this?" I ask him.

"The joy of seeing Jack Fenton's son suffer, and the fact that after Maddie realizes she's destroyed her son she'll find me by her side," Vlad says.

I can't stay much longer. I'm falling, and the weight of my mom is becoming more and more like a block of lead (but don't tell her that. She'd kill me. Then again, she's probably going to kill me now anyways…).

I look at Vlad one last time before aiming myself towards the other side of the fence. I try to land us on the ground safely, but I end up crashing into the ground. My mom has fallen on top of me and is stirring now more than ever. I shove her off of me and set her up against a tree. I huddle against one straight in front of her a couple yards away. I start counting up the events of the last couple of hours.

"Okay, so…ghost nuns, Wulf attacking Mom, Vlad being a fruit-loop, losing my powers for a whole day, and stuck being Danny Phantom in front of my mom who currently has a machete and bazooka in her utility belt," I list off. "Yep, I'm screwed. Best three-day weekend ever." The last sentence is dripping in sarcasm.

I've got my head in hands when I hear something move.

I move my fingers to peek an eye out. "Wulf?" I ask. "Wulf, is that you?"

Mom is waking up. She takes off her mask to rub her eyes and analyzes her surroundings. Her gaze locks on me.

"Phantom?" she asks viciously.

Yep. So totally screwed.


	4. Screwed

**Okay, I'm just going to say that I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Oh, and my story isn't beta-read, so there may be a couple grammatical errors. You guys are so awesome! I love you all.**

**-ZG**

**#**

I wake up back where I was. Up against a tree.

But I'm not in the same position, nor am I in the same spot of forest I was in before. The creature is gone, and my whole self is aching.

My mother instincts kick in the moment I can think coherent thoughts. Where is Danny? Is he alright? Did the creature take him?

But then I see him.

That miserable excuse for an afterlife.

I am surprised at first, really, for his expression. It is unlike any I had seen on a ghost before. His hands are in his white hair and he is bunched up in a ball. He has one green eye peeking out, and in that eye I can see fear, which is strange. Ghosts didn't have any emotions except for lust, or obsession. I have never seen one that experienced fear.

He is here. But where is my son? He is nowhere to be seen. I look to the ghost boy again.

"Phantom?" I ask curiously, but also viciously.

He looks completely terrified. He gets his hands out his hair and scrambles against the tree. Couldn't he just become intangible and phase through it? Curious.

But all I'm focused on now is my son.

"Phantom," I repeat with my voice full of anger. I get up and whip out the bazooka. "Where is my son? What did you do to him? Where are we?"

"I—I—I'm…um," he stammers.

I turn on the bazooka, which starts up a high-pitched whine. "Answer me," I demand. "Or you'll never see the day of afterlife again."

"He—he ran away!" he tells me, hands over his face.

"Explain," I said viciously, like I'm talking to one of my own children after they get in trouble. He is in the form of a teenager, anyways. Perhaps that will get through to him.

He darts his eyes around, like he's trying to piece together something. "After Wulf attacked you-"

"Wolf?" I ask. "The creature that attacked me?"

He smirks. "Well, he's actually pretty calm once you get to know him. If you didn't shoot the bazooka at him-"

I readjust the weapon's focus on him. He put his hands up in defense.

"So, after he attacked you, I sort of saw you guys were in trouble. So I got the Wulf thing away and uh…flew you guys over the fence. But my nemesis shorted out my powers with this device and now I can't change ba—I mean, do all my regular ghostly stuff and I got _your son-_" He says the words weird, like they were a whole new thing to him. He laughs a little for some unknown reason, but stopped once I glare at him again. "Anyways, I got your son down and he got scared and…uh, ran off into the woods. Yeah."

I keep my focus on him while I analyze his explanation. I looked and saw that the fence, instead of being to my right, was to my left. It was much clearer here than in the apparent cage the ghosts set for us. The creature—Wolf, I believe—was nowhere in sight. So I can admit to the possibility that he did indeed save us from the ghosts and that creature. I had seen him do benevolent acts before. But I keep myself suspicious. Ghosts are very manipulative beings.

His powers shorting out are another thing. Are ghosts able to invent new devices? I dismiss the silly question. Of course they were. The bounty hunter ghost and the technology ghost came with devices and doohickeys I had never seen before. And the fact that Phantom has a nemesis is not surprising. Ghosts fight over territory all the time. And knowing Phantom, he would've escaped right now. He is helpless here. I smile, knowing that it will be easy to capture him.

As for my son…he has run away before. He disappears whenever a ghost is around, and especially with Phantom. Now my poor baby is lost and alone in the woods.

"I may believe you," I tell him. I see a general look of relief on him. "After all, running away sounds like something my son would do."

He gets physically agitated for some reason, but quickly changes it to fear again. "So are you going to do to me?"

I quickly go over the options in my head and chose the best to convey to him.

"Well, I could easily destroy you right now," I say. He cringes. "Or I could weaken you, trap you, experiment on you, and send you back into the Ghost Zone. I could leave you here, but that leaves the possibility for you to ambush me." I sigh. "Or I could call a momentary truce to search for my son. After all, you were the only witness that saw the direction he headed in."

"Are you asking me to pick one of those?" he asks. "Because my answer will be pretty biased."

"No, I'm merely telling you what to expect," I say. He is just like the average teenager: snarky and sarcastic. Even better for this situation. "The scientist in me would like to consider the first two ideas, but my main focus right now is my son." I turn off the weapon. The whine fades away. I think for a little bit. Phantom still doesn't move. He as the perfect chance to escape! But he's frozen. "So I've reached a compromise. I will spare you if you help me search for my son and answer all of the questions I ask you truthfully."

He raises an eyebrow. "That's it?" He gets up and brushes himself off. He's much happier now. "Then let's do it!"

I grab him by the turtleneck of his suit and stare straight into his eyes. "But if you turn on me or do _anything_ that would hurt me or my son, I will tear you apart ectoplasmic electron by ectoplasmic electron."

"Different than 'molecule by molecule'," he comments. "But okay, yeah. I get it. We better get a move on if Walker and his goons are still on our trail."

"Walker?" I ask. "Who is Walker?"

"Big guy," he explains, leveling his hand above him to show it. "Practically all white, fedora hat. Looks like a built Al Capone. Head of the Ghost Zone prison and has all these ghost policemen. Makes up rules to imprison people because he's a crazy son of a bitch."

"Language!" I scorn involuntarily. I cover my mouth. It's almost as if he's one of my children.

He mirrors my actions and starts blushing. Ghosts don't blush. Ghosts don't have the blood flow needed to blush. "Sorry," he apologizes.

This ghost keeps getting more and more complicated, but I choose to dismiss it for now.

"We need to move. If I know my son he won't be able to last long in the woods alone."

He looks agitated again. "Maybe he's capable," he tells me. "From what I've seen it's possible."

I look at him. "Do you know my son?" I ask.

He looks like he's been caught off guard. "No, no! I mean sort of. I've…um…seen him around before when I'm at Casper. Talked to him once or twice."

"Funny," I say. "Danny never told me that."

"Maybe he's afraid you'll take him in for questioning," he says bitterly. I stare at him. He's being a little too passionate about how my son is feeling. He rubs the back of his neck. "Or…something like that," he adds.

"Though, I would expect that from him. He has been keeping a lot from me lately…" I compose myself. I'm letting this ghost tap into my emotions too much. "Not that you would care."

"Maybe I would. It keeps me distracted from imagining you practically melting me into a pile of ectoplasm."

I shake my head. "Let's get onto the questions." I pull out my machete and start cutting down some branches, keeping an eye out for my son.

"Shoot," he allows. "Not literally, of course."

"Were you once a living person or are you just a formation of ectoplasmic energy?" I ask him. It's a standard question for ghost hunters. It helps determine what ghosts we're dealing with.

"Uh…living person, I guess. But aren't all ghosts made of ectoplasm?"

"Well, there are ghosts made of pure ectoplasm and then there are ghosts made from the ectoplasmic energy that is emitted when a person dies," I explain. "Being a ghost, I thought you would already know that."

"I never was any good in biology," he mumbles. "But yeah, I am—was—a living person."

"You must have died recently, considering you showed up approximately a year ago, give or take a month," I analyze.

"Uh-huh," he agrees passively. He moves some forestry away.

"May I ask how you died?" I cautiously ask. Some ghosts can be very sensitive to this topic.

He looks surprised. "Uh…um…accident. I got fried trying to fix something for my parents."

It must've been hard on his parent to see him die like that. If that ever happened to Danny I don't what I would do.

"Well, Inviso-Bill-"

"Ugh," he groans. "I hate that nickname. Could you please not call me that?"

"What do you suggest I call you? Do you have any other names besides that and Phantom?" I ask.

"Oh, plenty," he says. We move further into the forest. "Let's see…there's whelp, dipstick, ghost boy, the halfa-"

"Halfa?" I repeat.

Phantom looks away. "It's, uh, Ghost Zone slang. Nothing important." He clears his throat. "There's also lowlife, future pelt on my wall, ghost child, _Daniel_-" He spits out the name in spite, and then immediately covers his mouth. "You didn't need to hear that last one."

"I'm guessing that was your name when you were alive," I hypothesized. "You share quite a lot with my son. Including his features…"

"What? No, I don't! Unless your son is a very good-looking guy, then yeah, maybe I do." His eyes dart around. "But me and your son? Similar? Nah."

"No, you look very similar," I point out. I'm seeing it now. I've only viewed him from a distant, and now that I have his up close I'm seeing more and more of Danny in him. "Height…hair style…"

"I don't see it," he dismisses. "Besides, I hear this hairstyle is very popular nowadays. Minus the white of course." He picks up a piece of hair between two of his fingers and drops it. "Just call me Phantom for now, I guess. Just not Inviso-Bill or Daniel. I can't stand being called those."

I shake my head and move on with the questions. "How old were you when you died?"

"Fourteen," he answers automatically. He then proceeds slam his palm against his forehead.

He stuck to be just a year younger than Danny. _Poor boy_, I think. _Those years were so awkward for Danny._ But I slap myself out of it. I shouldn't be feeling sympathy for a ghost! I am a woman of science, not children's therapist. That's Jazz. And speaking of Jazz…

"How do you know my children and their friends?" I ask. "They've shown a lot of support for you, unfortunately. Especially my daughter."

"I've spoken with them a few times," Phantom confesses. "And they help me catch ghosts when I need to. I save their butts when they get in trouble."

"I would expect that in being so powerful you wouldn't need much help."

"I'm just a kid. Or, uh, a ghost kid. Yeah, I got powers but its nice not to be alone every once and while." He looks sullen. "Even then it can be hard. Only one other person—or being or whatever—understands what I'm going through and he's nuts. You could make peanut butter out of him, he's that crazy."

"You are in a community of ghosts. Surely your problem is common."

"Nope," he denies. "Only two—actually three, now that I think about it—have gone through it, counting me. The other one is God knows where. She's like a little sister to me, but she has more problems with her situation. She's a little unstable."

"There is a female one like you?"

"Yeah," he says. He's smiling now. "We look almost identical. She's younger than me, though, by a lot."

"So you are different than most ghosts?" I guess. "That would explain why my readings are always off."

"Oh, yeah. _Way_ different." He yawns. "It's been a hell of a night. Do you think we can rest a while?"

"Ghosts don't sleep, and how do I know you won't attack me when I'm resting?" I inquire cautiously.

"Okay, 1) this ghost sleeps. Kinda part of my whole 'different than other ghosts' situation," he explains in an annoyed voice. "And 2) I've got no power at all for the next, what, 22 hours? And you've got a bunch of weapons up your sleeve. Do you think I'd take a chance at trying to kill you?"

I consider this. "What if you leave?"

"Walker is after me like mad. I can't survive when I can barely make my hand disappear." He holds up his gloved hand and concentrates. The image wavers for a second but stays practically the same. "See? All I've got is this." He takes out the Fenton Thermos from a strap on his back. "And a ghost needs to either be the Box Ghost or beaten the crap out of before I can get them in here."

I snatch the thermos away from him. "How did you get this? _Were you in our lab_?" He backs up against a tree, looking frightened. _There he is with those emotions again. What game is he playing?_

"What? No! Uh, Jazz…lent it to me. And she gets them back into the Ghost Zone." He looks twitchy.

"I'm going to have to have a long talk with Jazz after this," I say to myself. I yawned. I hadn't exactly gotten my beauty rest, being woken up to my son having a panic attack about ghosts. "Fine." I reached for the back of my utility belt. I pulled out ecto-resistant rope. It radiated a faint green. "But just to make sure you don't escape."

His eyes get wide. "Okay, ropes and I do _not_ work out well. Same with nets and guns."

"It's either that or be blown into tiny spectral smithereens," I say. The ultimatum has been given, and by the look of defeat on his face he's willing to comply. "Now get up against the tree."

He plasters himself to the tree and I cautiously begin tying the rope around him, making sure that his hands and fingers were unable to move. He could shoot blasts from them at any moment could he be lying. I tie a bow-like knot in the front and smile at my handiwork. "There. Now I can sleep peacefully."

I lean up against the tree across from him and have my hand poised at the ready to pull out any weapon. I sigh and watch as the ghost boy drops his head. I can hear snoring.

I smile. Wait, why am I smiling? He's a ghost. Evil spiritual scum. I shouldn't be smiling at him. But he does look adorable when he's sleeping…

I snap myself out of it. I can't be like this.

I let sleep overtake me, but I know this is going to be a long weekend already.

**#**

**I hoped you liked this latest installment! The next chapter is in the works! Favorite, Alert, and pretty pretty please review! It helps me write the story and keep me in a good mood!**

**-ZG**


	5. Clueless

**Hey guys! Here's your chapter of the day! I'd write some more, but today is my country's independence day, full of eagles and talking about 'murica.**

**-ZG**

**# **

So…that went better than I thought it would.

A couple of death threats, me slipping up a few times…but no chase or gun blasts. I'd say that things were going along swimmingly.

I wish I could slap myself for all the times I almost revealed myself. But my hands are tied tightly to my sides. I woke up five minutes ago after getting a couple hours of sleep. It was beautiful, really. No ghosts to worry about, no ghost sense firing off every five minutes. And no Box Ghost. I sighed and smiled. _No Box Ghost._

But back to the situation at hand. Good going, Fenton, you tell her your first name _and _your age? Better strap me to the examination table while you can.

I'm surprised she hasn't figured it by now. I'm horrible at lying to my mom anyways. She can tell when I'm doing it. It's a scary mom power only moms have.

And if she can tell when Danny _Fenton_ is lying, there's a huge possibility that she can tell when Danny _Phantom_ is lying.

I look at her. She's ready for any sudden movements. Her hand is on her machete and her face twitches at the smallest of sounds.

So, I have another 20 hours before Fenton can miraculously reappear and Phantom can dramatically fly off into the sunset. Great.

How am I going to survive all her questions for the next 20 hours? What if she asks about how I'm 'different from other ghosts'? I shouldn't have said that. I should've left it off at 'they help me', but no. I had to get all teenage angst on her.

And practically revealing Dani wasn't a good idea. Potentially revealing Vlad, however, was much more promising.

Speaking of Vlad…where was he? And Walker? They should've caught onto us by now. Maybe Walker's busy getting Vlad arrested, rambling off about the joy of being an executioner. No one can out-fruit loop Vlad, but Walker comes pretty close in second place.

I sigh. This may be the last time in a couple months—if I survive that long—that I might get some actual sleep. I drop my head again and slowly drift off.

_I'm in my parents lab. It's just like before. After all, I've had this dream, what, fifteen times? I'm overlooking the scene, unable to do anything but comment to nobody. It's like being an actual ghost._

_Three teenagers are standing before a darkened alcove in the wall. Two figures in jumpsuits have left the area, going to kitchen to reevaluate their plans._

_The first teenager is the epitome (I used that word correctly, right?) of techno-geek. Glasses, yellow knit sweater. Green khakis that are awkwardly longer than most khakis, and matching brown socks and sneakers. A red beret rests on his head and he's analyzes something on his PDA. He's also hilarious, cracking jokes whenever he can. The two other teenagers glare at him whenever he does, obviously annoyed._

_The second teenager is a girl. She has a whole dark outlook on her, but in reality I know she's pretty lighthearted and cheerful for a Goth. Her makeup is all blacks and purples, and so is her outfit. Her hair is up in a half ponytail, her short hair dangling on both sides of her face and her bangs point straight down like an arrowhead (man, I'm becoming quite the poet)._

_The third teenager is staring in wonder at the invention before him. He looks just like me. Blue eyes, dark hair that goes everywhere. A white t-shirt with a red dot in the middle that makes him look like the flag of Japan. Baggy (but not sagging, because I know that he's classy) jeans and red sneakers. He's staring at it in both disbelief and awe._

_The girl is trying to convince him to go in. He's refusing, but finally gives in. Because I realize that I can impress her. 'Oh Danny, you were so brave going into that dark hole that could potentially kill you' I remember imagining her say. And then other stuff happened, but they were all some sort of mixture of hormones and being forced to watch too many Nicholas Sparks movies with my sister._

_He's pulling on the Hazmat suit._

"_Don't do it," I warn him. "Don't do it, idiot. It's going to hurt you more than it's going to help you."_

_But he's zipping up the suit, taking a deep breath and looking terrified. The girl walks up and rips off the picture of my dad from his chest._

"_You can't go walking around with that on your chest," she says._

"_Alright, here does nothing," the boy says as he faces the cavern (Danny: 1, Vocabulary Workbook: 0)._

"_Hey dude," the techno-geek says as the boy is about to set into the invention. "If you die, can I have your MP3?"_

"_Tucker!" both the girl and the boy chastise (Danny: 2, Vocabulary Workbook: 0) at the same time. They look at each other, look away, and get on with what they were doing._

"_Don't go in there," I tell him. He goes in. "Fine…just don't lean against the wall. Improvise! Trip over a wire, or something!"_

_He steadies his hand against the dark wall, giving his weight into as he ventures deeper inside. There's a click._

_And suddenly, I'm him. I look at my hand, which has just pressed itself onto the 'on' button. I look ahead. Something lights up, sending sparks. Then it lights up again, consuming everything in bright green light. I feel like my insides are burning. Everything is on fire. I'm screaming._

I wake up to a pair of red goggles staring straight at me, analyzing me. It's morning, and the sun is beating down on the both of us.

"Interesting," my mom says. "Very interesting."

"What? I didn't sleep talk, did I?" I ask her. I've had that habit for a long time. And judging by the dream, if I said anything all that covering up would be for nothing.

"Yes, in fact, you did," Mom says in a musing voice, just like she's going over a specimen. Which, in her eyes, I am, I guess. "But I'm surprised. Biologically speaking, you were indeed sleeping."

"Like I said," I remind her, "I'm different than other ghosts. I sleep."

"And who is this 'idiot' you were speaking to in your dream?" she asks me.

"Uh…" Think, Fenton, think! "…I don't remember."

"Well, it looks like your dream was quite a doozy," she tells me. "You were screaming yourself to dea—you were screaming quite loudly."

I laugh. _Screaming myself to death_, I think. _Well, I'm halfway there._ "I guess so. Not that I'd remember it or anything."

Mom concentrates on me, and then silently starts untying the rope. "We better get a move on. For all I hope my son wasn't eaten by wolves last night."

Does she think that I'm really that weak? Maybe I should work out more…the normal way. Not the getting-stronger-because-I'm-throwing Skulker-into-a-dumpster-constantly way.

"You wouldn't mind telling me more about your son, would you?" I ask in curiosity as I brush myself off. It feels good to actually move again.

"Why? You seem to know more about him than I do," she answers bitterly. She starts walking away, into the forest.

"Not really…only the ghost hunting," I tell her. "Other than that, I'm clueless." I start catching up with her.

She angrily slashes a bush with her machete. "What makes you so suddenly interested in my son?"

I shrug. "Something to distract us. It's going to be a long day, and no offense, but those scienc-y and technical questions can get pretty boring."

"Science is never boring!" Mom defends.

"To a teenager? Yeah, it sort of is."

She sighs. "Well…you know what he looks like. He's fifteen, just a year older than when you died. You know his friends, right?"

"I've only really seen them," I lie. "The red beret kid and the Goth girl, right?" My voice is getting shaky. Those Drama classes in eighth grade were _not_ paying off.

"Yes," Mom says. She's starting to smile. She may be a ghost hunter but I know she is like any other mom in that she _loves_ talking about her children. "They've been inseparable since elementary school. Him and Tucker, the red beret kid, share everything. They even shared a piece of gum." She grimaces.

I grimace as well. That gum, after being in Tucker's mouth, tasted more like ham than mint.

"Him and the Goth girl, Sam, though?" She shakes her head. Why is she shaking her head? She's laughing! What, with me and Sam is so laughable? "He's clueless. It's adorable, but the poor girl…"

I raise an eyebrow. "Clueless about…what?"

She glares at me. "Come on, Phantom, you've seen them together, haven't you?"

"Uh, yeah," I answer. "Sure."

"Then you'd see it," Mom says. She takes another dangerous whack at the wildlife. She notices my blank stare. After all, what the hell is she talking about? Me and Sam…yeah, I act differently around her than when I do with Tucker, but she's a girl! Of course I act differently around her. She shakes her head and laughs again. It's becoming more and more infuriating by the second. "All teenage boys are the same, apparently. Even the dead ones."

I frown. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

She breaks from her usual motherly-ness and into her ghost hunter mode. "It's nothing important."

"No, now it is now that I'm curious," I say.

"Curiosity killed the cat," she reminds me, looking ahead and scanning the area for the me she _doesn't_ want to maim.

"Well, obviously that isn't a problem for me," I say sarcastically. I gesture to my apparent "ghostly" self. If it were up to me I'd turn my legs into a tail for effect, but since my powers are shorted out I can't do it.

"Let's just say I'm surprised I haven't caught them doing anything yet," she says simply. "You remember being a living teenage boy. Pining over the opposite sex."

"What? Sam and I-" I stop and correct myself before she catches on. "Sam and _him_ are not like that. From what I've seen they're just really good friends."

"He tells me that, too," she confesses. She isn't laughing anymore, but instead her voice is more serious-sounding. "But I see how they look at each other. Well, Sam more than Danny."

"So…she likes him? A lot?" I ask. She looks at me like I grew an extra arm. "Just making sure I know. I'm just curious."

"Yes, she likes him," she confirms.

I'm not sure I can hold in much longer. "Could you wait here for a minute?" I ask her.

"Why?" she asks suspiciously.

"Bathroom break," I lie.

"Ghosts don't have bodily functions," she says. "Therefore they do not need to go to the bathroom."

Crap. "Ghosts…also don't sleep," I remind her.

She considers this. "I'm giving you two minutes. And if you're not back by then the truce is off."

I nod. "Two minutes is more than enough."

I then dash away as fast as I can, keeping in a straight line so that I don't get lost. I find a clearing and hold my arms up in the air in victory.

'WOOOOHHHOOOOOO!" I yell. I then clear my throat and brush off an dirt on my suit. I calmly turn back in the direction from which I came from and walk back.

Mom is staring at the sky. "Did you hear that?" she asks.

Crap. Again. "Hear what?" I lie.

"That sound. It sort of sounded like a 'woohoo'," she says calmly and quietly.

"Probably just a bird," I tell her. I start walking ahead. "Come on. Let's get moving. The Extra Odd Couple is probably on our trail."

She starts catching up to me.

"I swear, you are an enigma," Mom says.

"A what-a?" I ask.

"An enigma. A complex being," she answers.

Danny: 2, Vocabulary Workbook: 1. "Oh…why am I an enigahooey or whatever?" I ask her.

"You're a ghost," she says. "But you act as if you're _alive._ You sleep, have bodily functions, and judging by the second one you must eat. It's almost as if you're human. That is, of course, if you're not just delusional."

"I don't think I'm delusional," I say. I mentally slap myself. Why am I talking? Can't I just shut up? Then I see it: a part of me wants her to know. To end this secret-keeping from my family. To finally walk down the stairs in ghost mode on accident without being blasted at. But I can't. Because if revealing myself goes wrong, I'll have nowhere to go. I'd probably have to leave Amity forever.

"Is this what makes you different than other ghosts? The fact that you can blend into the human world?"

"Yeah," I say. "That's it." I start moving faster. Maybe if I start going ahead she'll ignore me…

"But how is this possible?" she asks. Nope. Because I'm always the unlucky one.

I shrug. "I don't know." _Yes I do._ "Maybe the way I died or something?" _You didn't die. You're not dead. YOU'RE HUMAN. TELL HER YOU'RE HUMAN._

"I'm certain that electrocution wouldn't do that," Mom muses.

I stay silent a move along. I start picking up speed. I get so entranced in getting away from her that I don't notice the blackberry bush that scrapes up against my side.

"Ouch," I mumble. I look down and whimper a little. I lightly touch on of the scrapes and it stings. "Ah," I wince.

"What's going on up there?" Mom asks cautiously. She comes upon the scene.

"I just got scraped by a bush," I explain. "It's no biggie. I've gotten third degree burns from Plasmius's blasts of ecto-energy. I'll be alright."

"Ghosts can't feel pain," she says in wonder. She starts walking up to me. "What _are_ you?"

I back away. "Just a ghost!" I lie. "A very weird, rare ghost, okay? You can trap and put me in a glass case later. We need to get a move on."

"Are you sure you'll be able to keep going?" she asks. She sounds caring, like she's talking to human me, not ghost me.

So I get a little lost into the moment and slip up a little. "It's okay," I say. I start walking. "I'm fine, Mom. Jesus." I stop in my tracks. The shit has officially hit the fan.

I turn around. "Maddie! I meant Maddie! That is your name, right? Or is it Molly? Mrs. Fenton?"

She glares at me. "You just called me Mom," she asks viciously. She whips out her gun. "How dare you call me your mother, ectoplasmic scum? Why did you call me that?"

She backs me up into a tree. The barrel is right in front of my face. I have to figure out a lie, quick.

Think! Come on, think! The wellbeing of your face depends on it!

"You..uh…" I stumble. "You remind me of my mom?"

Her face softens. "What?"

"You…remind me of my mom," I say. And I'm not lying. After all, she is an _exact_ lookalike for my mother, since she is her anyway. "And it just slipped out. I didn't mean to."

She drops the bazooka. "Well we should still check it out," she insists.

"No!" I say. But she looks at it anyway.

There's a reason I didn't want her to see it. Ever since the accident, my blood has been this mix of green on red, like oil on water. Ghosts only bleed green ectoplasm. Of course, I'm bleeding neon green straight from shady bar sign.

But right now, my cuts are also seeping scarlet.

**#**

**Yup. Another cliffhanger. Why? Because I'm evil. Mwahahahaha. |Don't worry, I'll update in a day or two.**

**Off to see the fireworks!**

**-ZG**


	6. Opening a Box of FruitLoops

**Oh, I'm feeling so much love from you guys! It's so amazing what your reviews can do my day. So, after a long wait, another chapter. As one reviewer would say…huzzah!**

**-ZG**

**#**

Phantom is trying to get away from me. Why is he trying to get away from me?

"I don't like getting ectoplasm all over my jumpsuits," I say to him. "Now come over here so I can bandage you up!"

"NO!" he rejects. Why is he so stubbornly against me tending to his wounds? He should be thankful that I haven't blown him to pieces yet. He clears his throat. "I'm a fast healer. They'll be gone in a couple minutes, I'm sure of it."

He slips away from me and starts walking ahead.

"I am trying to help you, Phantom!" I tell him. "Now come back over here so I can see. I will have dripping ectoplasm on my watch."

He keeps walking.

"Phantom, I said get over here," I demand. He continues on his way. "Phantom, don't make me use this machete for uses other than cutting down tree limbs." He's still walking ahead. I inhale and use my last weapon of defense: mothering. If I remind him so much of his mother, maybe he'll listen to me if I act like one. "Daniel Phantom, you get your butt over here right now or so help me!"

He stops and turns around, both shocked and afraid. He looks confused, as if he's not sure whether to disobey me or follow my orders. He then pouts, slumps, and trudges until he's five feet away from me.

He exposes his side. "See? Nothing. It's gone. Now let's go."

I look at his suit. It's reforming, and so is his skin. But there are some parts of the suit still open, which means that there are cuts that are open as well.

"No," I say. "You still have a few-" I reach out and try to analyze his side. He winces in pain the minute I touch him and moves away.

"I said I'm fine," he says defiantly. He's looking at me with frustration, annoyance, and…fear? What is he afraid of? "So let's keep walking. I still have another—what, 15 hours before I get my powers back? Let's make time fly."

He starts walking ahead, but turns when he realizes that I'm not following him. He looks at me, confused. "Mo-" He clears his throat. "Maddie? Mrs. Fenton?"

I can barely hear him. My mind is settled on one thing and one thing only.

"Red," I say. "You're bleeding green…and red."

My glove that I touched him with is stain-proof. So on my fingers are three tiny drops of whatever comes out of him when he's injured. It's not ectoplasm, but it's not blood. It's blood with a thin, veil-like coating of webby ectoplasm moving in the sunlight.

Instead of analyzing things secretly in my mind, I decide to speak my thoughts.

"That's not possible," I say in wonder. "Ghosts excrete ectoplasm, they don't bleed. And blood contains no evidence of ectoplasmic matter. But you…yours…" I look up at him. He's wide-eyed. If he's bleeding that means that he's alive…and if he's alive that means that his not dead. Nor is he really a ghost.

_He's been lying to me._

"Yeah, another thing that is so spectacular about me!" he says nervously. He gulps. "So, I saw some telephone wires over to the west. Maybe if we-"

I whip out my bazooka once again and have him pinned to a tree. His chest is heaving with anxiety. _Ghosts don't breathe_, I remind myself.

But humans do.

"Alright, you ectoplasmic whatever you are," I say. "Who and _what _are you? And what are you playing at?"

He looks deeply into my eyes, as if he's making a decision. He's figuring out something. He's planning—

"And no lies," I order. "Or else."

"I would be easier to question me if I wasn't under a lot of stress," he says. "And right now, a weapon to my face is not working out to be a good stress reliever."

"Sit," I say. He slides down onto the ground. I pull out the rope and tie him up. I put the bazooka away. "Now answer my questions."

"Uh…what was the first one again?" he asks me.

"Who and _what _are you?" I repeat. He glares and looks up at me.

"I'm Danny Phantom," he says. I flinch at the sound of my son's name being used for his existence. "I come from Amity Park. I go to Casper High school. My hobbies include listening to music and beating The Box Ghost into a pulp made of cardboard." He gulped and looked down. "And I hate this word, but I'm a halfa."

"Isn't that the Ghost Zone slang you told me about yesterday?" I recall, anger still in my tone. "What exactly does 'halfa' mean, anyways?"

"Half ghost," he says guiltily. He looks up at me again. "And half human. Half of? Halfa? The name sort of speaks for itself."

No. That can't be right. Ectoplasmic DNA and human DNA simply do not mix well. Exposure can cause immense pain. But he has human-like bodily functions _and_ the powers of a ghost. How could this be?

"How did you get this way?" I ask him.

"I…I…," he stutters. He's stumped. "I…don't know. One minute I'm fixing something for my parents and BOOM! Big explosion and I wake up looking like this." He tries moving his hands to gesture, but they're tied down.

"And what exactly was it that you were fixing for your parents?" I inquire.

"A por—porcelain lamp," he says. "The wire had broken, and so I was, um, tampering with it to get it working again." He sighs. "I, uh, I guess I shouldn't have left it plugged in and set to 'on' when I was working on it." He laughs a little. "Stupid 'on' switch," he mutters.

"That doesn't explain the powers," I point out.

"Well," he continues. "Me and my…friends…we've sort of come up with two theories. One is that I half-died during the accident, and the other is that the exposure to the radiation or ectoplasmic energy or whatever fused with my DNA." He paused. "I like the second theory better, personally. I don't like to think of myself as the living dead. I mean, brains do _not_ sound very appetizing."

"How would you get ectoplasmic exposure from a _lamp_?" I question, getting suspicious.

"It had been through a lot," he answers quickly. "It was a very, um, _interesting _lamp."

"Are your parents still alive?" I ask.

"Yeah," he retorts, sounding like I just asked him was 1+1 equals.

"Do they know about your…predicament?" I don't really know the proper word for this situation, to tell the truth. Gifts sounds too inviting to this lifestyle he's acquired, but disease just sounds uncivil.

"Please," Phantom says. "I tell them and the next thing I know I'm going to be shipped away from experimentation and questioning."

"You never know that," I reassure him. He's looking bitter and downtrodden.

He looks up at me with all the fury he has. "Really? What would you do if your kid was half-ghost?"

"But I'm a ghost hunter," I remind him. "My answer could be very different than the one you're mother would tell you."

"You may be surprised," he says, smirking a little. "And I'm not asking you to answer as a ghost hunter. I'm asking you to answer as a parent. What would you do if your kid was half-ghost?" His voice got quieter. "And maybe your other kid was helping him out."

I don't hear his addition very well. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Just a fly buzzing in your ear, most likely. I didn't say a thing."

I glare at him and begin to figure out how to answer his question. After all, what if Jazz or Danny actually _did _have ghost powers and capabilities?

"Well I'd be shocked, first of all," I tell him. "And then maybe I'd run them in for a couple blood and tissue samples, possibly test out their abilities…"

"So…you'd treat them like lab rats?" he clarifies. His tone has changed. He sounds hurt more than annoyed.

"Of course not!" I say. But I think a little. What would I do if my own children suddenly turned into the thing I most hate? Would I test them? Deny them? Accept them? "It would be…hard to adjust. I mean, you have to admit that dropping a bomb like that would be hard to get used to-"

"In all the possible scenarios?" he says. "Yeah, bombs hurt."

"—but I guess I would warm up to the idea sooner or later," I muse. "After some tests. I wouldn't chain them up in there forever, though. It's not like they're gho-"

He raises his eyebrows.

"I see your point," I admit. I realize I have led my guard down trying to answer his question. I reposition myself. "But that is my answer. Not your mother's." Another question pops into my head. "So is this your definite form? Or can you transform, in a ways, into a more human-like being?"

"Um…what?"

"Do you always look like this?" I clarify, gesturing to his whole ghostly getup.

"What? No, actually I-" He stops himself. "I'm a little uncomfortable answering this question."

"And why is that?"  
"It's like Spiderman revealing to the world that he's Peter Parker or Clark Kent telling everyone he's Superman," he compares. "It's giving up the part of me no one cares about or hunts for. If I tell you then you and Da—Jack, or is it Jake? I don't know. Anyways, you'll be on my case all the time."

"So you'll never reveal who you are to me?" I ask.

"As long as you're holding a weapon and standing up…yes," Phantom confirms. His face brightens up. "However, I _can _tell you the identity of another person just like me."

"Just one? I thought you said that there were two others with your situation," I recall.

"Yeah, but she's not doing anything harmful," he reassures me. His face twists into assumption. "Well, that I know of. Last I heard she was in New York, street performing or something. But this guy…he's messed up. And evil."

"Oh, and you're not?" I inquire. I remember all the crimes he has committed, all the danger he put the town in.

"Those were misunderstandings," he explains. "Walker got a hold of the mayor's body and staged everything to get back at me for breaking out of his prison-"

"See? You went to prison."

"But Walker's the guy who makes up all these rules to imprison people, remember?" Oh yes, the 'crazy son of a bitch'. "It's like his fetish to imprison people. And the other time, with the jewelry…Sam's parents were right about Circus Gothika. Freakshow is a lot darker than you'd understand."

"So you've hung out with my son and his friends?" I assume.

His eyes dart around again. "A couple times, yeah. They know about it. Danny especially. He's…um…he's the first guy I told."

"Then why have I never met you?" I ask.

He blanks out for a moment, and then he smirks. "Uh…you know…a guy like me beneath all those detectors and ectoplasm-sensitive alarms? I can't set myself within 20 feet of your house without thinking that something will go off." His face brightens up again. "And I swore Danny, Tucker, and Sam to secrecy. I don't want to GIW up on my ass." He shakes his head. "But we're moving away from the topic at hand. I'm not evil. Just misunderstood. But this guy is like Lex Luthor."

I cross my arms. "You seem to like comic books a lot."

He shrugs. "What teenage boy doesn't?"

I dismiss the last two bits of conversation. "So this man…he is a man, right?"

He nods. "A very lonely, bitter one. I tell him he should just get a cat, but does he listen? No…"

That teenage snarky attitude is starting up again. I knock on the bazooka again to get his attention. He snaps out of it.

"Anyways, he's a fruit-loop. He became all hell-bent on revenge and redemption or something after Da—one of his friends screwed up the project they were working on. It kind of blew up in his face. It gave him ghost powers, yeah, but the accident cost him the apparent 'love of his life' to the friend who messed up the project, even though I think yo—she's perfect where she is. So he's out to get both her and _their son-_" He says in that strange voice again, like he's never said the words before. "—on his side and practically win them over. He's constantly trying to either embarrass Da—the father, tempt the son, or seduce the mother." He grimaces at the last one. "He's my arch-nemesis. He won't stay away from m—my friend or my friend's family. So I've got to teach him a lesson in giving people space."

I take in all this information. The back-story is sounding oddly familiar. Could it be? No, no it couldn't. He couldn't be _that_ obsessed with me.

"Do I happen to know this person or ghost?" I ask him.

He nods. "When he's in ghost form he goes by Plasmius. You may or may not know him as the Wisconsin Ghost. He's the dolt who shorted out my powers when I was trying to get you guys away from him," Phantom explains. He smiles. "But when he's a human? Oh, you know him very well."

"Who is it?" I press on. But the answer is already forming in my head. It's all clicking together…making sense…but it _can't_ be…

"Plasmius," he answers, "is the alter-ego for the multi-billionare Packers lover and all-around wack-job you know as Vlad Masters."

I gulp. I accept it. I accept it because ever since he got that bout of ecto-acne I saw something snap in Vlad that day. After a couple moments of silence as I'm reacting to the news, Phantom speaks up.

"You aren't in shock, are you?" he asks. "Because I can't stay roped up like this forever."

I turn to him. "Well of course I'm shocked," I say. "But no, not catatonic. I always knew something was wrong with Vlad. Danny, too." I pause. "We should probably continue our search."

I untie him and he stretches, standing up. "Glad that's over," he says. "So now you know my secret. Half-human, here in the mostly flesh. And with 14 hours until he can get his ghost back on again." He brushes himself off. "As I was saying before, I saw some telephone lines to the west. If we follow them we might reach a landline and be able to call Search and Rescue. But it looks like it'll be another day's trip."

"As long as we find Danny," I say.

Phantom smiles and starts walking.

But a question is still bothering me. "Wait," I say. "I think that after hearing about Vlad your identity won't be as much of a shock. So…who are you? Do I know you?"

Phantom's face is blank and surprised. It changes to fear, then nervousness, and then tranquility.

"Yeah, you do know me," he says. He's talking louder, as he is fifteen yards away. He looks down. "I'm-"

Suddenly, a wisp of visible breath escapes his mouth. Just like Danny. And then I start thinking. The accident, the exposure, the distancing. Why our inventions start malfunctioning around him. The odd behavior. Why Phantom is so nervous and slipping up. In the back of my mind, the pieces of the puzzle are fitting together. But shouldn't be. No, it will _never_ be. It is impossible for Danny to be a—

"I'm surprised you aren't dead by now," a voice says from behind me. I recognize it almost instantly.

My face twists into disgust and anger. My thoughts are shoved away. Phantom glares not at me, but at something near me. I turn around, and ready my voice for all the viciousness and sarcasm I have. Because I know I am going to need it.

The figure that stands before me in very vampire-like. Cold blue skin, cape, and hair that is shaped like he a croissant. His fangs are bared as he growls in frustration. And his eyes are absent of pupils and bloodshot. But it's his eyes. I know his eyes.

"Hello, Vlad."

**#**

**So yeah. Not as funny as previous chapters. I think it gets a little more hilarious when we get into Danny's view. But I wanted to make this a fair story with a point of view from everyone who isn't evil.**

**Speaking of evil, I just left you on another cliffhanger. *evil cackle***

**I'll update in a day or two, as usual. So don't get your undies in too much of a twist.**

**I need reviews! Your feedback keeps me writing this horrible story!**

**-ZG**


	7. In Which Vlad Ruins Everything

**Ah, I've finally finished the next chapter! This one was hard to write, because Vlad is such a hard character to keep canon. So here you go, my readers.**

**-ZG**

**#**

I'm so close.

So close.

I finally gain the courage to actually tell my mom who I really am. It's on the tip of my tongue and I'm about to say it when suddenly…

Vlad comes along.

The guy acts like he _wants _to be hated.

"I was sure that after ten minutes at the most you would be blown to bits," Vlad tells us.

"There's been a change of plans," I explain bitterly. He's too close to my mom for comfort.

"Oh well," he dismisses. "Ten minutes, ten hours. You know how bad I can be at math."

Mom looks confused.

"Its part of our witty banter," I tell her. "It's a system we go through, and it comes up right before I kick his butt." I smirk at Vlad.

"Now, you know you can't do that without your powers," he reminds me.

I thought of that the second he got here. I'm as useless as that hole in the wall that's supposed to hide the fudge from dad.

So telling my weapon-wielding black belt mom about his true identity was probably the best decision I've made in the past five hours.

"Vlad, you're going to keep away from that boy," Mom orders. She's practically towering over him with her attitude, and he's the one floating a foot off the ground.

"Vlad?" Vlad questions, trying to sound innocent. "Who is this Vlad you are talking about? I'm Plasmius, ghost feared by all who wander in my path." He glances over to me. "Minus the few pompous little twits who don't know what's best for them."

Mom's not buying it. "You're also Vlad Masters. I can recognize your voice, Vlad. It isn't that hard." She crosses her arms. "Now I'm going to tell you one more time: step away from me and Phantom. We're doing no harm here."

"Why would you want me to leave? I have done nothing to harm you."

"You sent the ghosts after me and Danny. You shorted out this ghost boy's powers. You set up the camp. And _you've_ been trying to steal me away from Jack!" She shakes her head. "Even if you were the last man on Earth I would _never_ even consider you as a husband."

"Oh really?" he says. "That's the game you're playing, my boy? Very wise, indeed."

"What are you talking about?" I ask. This guy makes less and less sense every time I encounter him.

"Blaming _me_ for all the trouble _you've_ caused? Very manipulative, Daniel. It's nice to know you're learning."

Mom turns to me. "What is he talking about?"

"I have no idea," I say.

"Woman, you have the story all wrong," Vlad tells Mom. "What has the boy told you? That your son is off someplace else? That I'm this 'Vlad' you keep saying I am? My dear, sweet lady, you have it all wrong."

"What?" she asks. She drops her guard to him and turns to me, glaring.

"You think _I_ sent that wolf-like creature to hunt you and your son? That _I_ am the one who sent the ghosts after you? That _I_ was the one who destroyed your vehicle?"

Mom smirks. "I never said anything about a vehicle," she reminds him.

Vlad looks caught off guard.

Oh, Vlad, you've slipped up. Rule number one of keeping a secret is to pay attention.

"I thought it was implied," he lied.

"Sure," Mom says. She whips out the bazooka. "Now scram, scum!"

Vlad laughs. "Maddie, do you really think that tiny thing will able to defeat me?" Vlad asks. Then he starts multiplying. There's two Vlads. Now there are four. It's like a convention of crazy. "I'm unstoppable."

Vlad is about to get my mom, and leave me here to die…or kill me himself. While he's all powerful, and I'm just a kid in a jumpsuit with old man hair.

He really knows when to kick a man while he's down.

"Leave her alone, Vlad," I say slowly.

"Oh, look, it's the ghost boy who can barely lift himself an inch off the ground!" the Vlads cry, mocking fear. "Whatever shall we do?"

I focus my glare on him even more. "Vlad, my mo-" Oh…whoops. I clear my throat. "Danny Fenton's mom wants nothing to do with you. It's over, dude." I feel a tiny smile come on. "You know, I hear the pet store's officially open on weekends now. Maybe you can find the love of your life in the cat bin."

The Vlads shake their heads and laugh. "Always with the jokes, Daniel. Perhaps that's what they'll write on your tombstone."

I ball my hands into fists. I can't think straight. This guy…he's just making my nerves burn with annoyance. One Vlad was enough, but _four_? I'm surprised I haven't tried to disembowel myself yet. He's too evil and too crazy.

Two Vlads easily maneuver past my mom and make their way to me.

They tower over me. It's easy to forget how short and prepubescent you are when you're flying twenty feet off the ground most of the time. Usually I would have this realization the minute I come within ten feet of Dash at school, but right now it's because I'm a foot away from the tall, flying copies of a guy bordering on criminal insanity.

I gulp. _Oh boy…_

One of the Vlads raise a fist and the next thing I know I'm on the ground. The other one grabs me by my suit and raises me up. I try to go intangible and slip out of the copy's grasp, but the best I can do is make his grip on me a little less severe. He reaffirms it and holds me up higher, looking to original Vlad for guidance. Vlad nods and I'm thrown up against a tree.

I can't do anything. Sure, I could beat up human Vlad. Those Skulker and Box Ghost meetings hadn't been for nothing. But he can go intangible, flying around me, and multiply himself. And what can I do? Make my hand flicker away for a couple seconds.

Original Vlad has grabbed Mom's shoulders. She's wide-eyed and looks both shocked and scared.

"Now let's get away from this scene, shall we?" I hear him say. Creep.

I feel a chill creep up in my throat. Great. Crazy #2 is probably on his way here to lock me up for all eternity.

But the next thing my vision focuses on is this mixture of black and green. Vlad Editions 1 and 2 must have done a number on me, because everything is sort of fuzzy. I try to focus on the creature. It takes down the two Vlads that were beating up on me.

Third Vlad, who's just sort of been awkwardly watching this take place, finally takes action and charges towards the being. The blob (because that's what it looks like to me) easily swaps him away, morphing him back with original Vlad. The two Vlads look shocked a quickly retreat back into their Master.

I shake my head to sift away the fuzziness, but I know who and _what _the blob is the moment it speaks.

"Vi ne doloris miaj amikoj."

I smile. "Wulf!" I realize out loud. The terrifying furball looks over to me. "Long time no see, huh?"

He looks confused. Apparently ghost wolves don't get sarcasm.

Vlad is trying to take advantage of his confusion.

"Look out!" I warn.

Wulf reacts just in time to pin Vlad to the ground. He snarls and I feel the need to laugh when the guy starts screaming like a girl.

Mom is shaking herself off, walking over and joining me to watch the spectacle.

"Vi lasos tiuj malriĉaj personoj sola kaj reiri al kie vi venis," Wulf demands. "Mi certas Walker atendas vin. Eble li kompatu vian animon."

"I don't understand a single damn thing you just said!" Vlad confesses. He looks absolutely terrified.

"Leave. My. Friends. Alone," Wulf roughly translates. He gets off of Vlad, who in turn gets up and brushes himself off.

"Well," he says, clearing his throat. "It is obvious that I am not welcome here. But, Maddie, if you ever doubt your marriage-"

Wulf snarls.

Vlad takes off running/flying. I think he's too shocked and afraid to figure out which one he's supposed to do.

Wulf turns to me.

"Hey!" I say, smiling. He comes up me and gives me another bear hug. I should really think about ways to greet him that don't break a couple of my ribs. "How did you find us?"

"Mi aŭdis vian suferon kaj decidis ke mi devas pagi mian ŝuldon al vi," Wulf answers honestly.

"Well, thanks," I say.

Wulf looks over to my mom. "Ĉu tio estas via patrino?" he asks.

I rub the back of my neck. All courage in revealing myself is gone. I can't just outright say that she's my mom is front of her.

"Yeah," I say.

"Ĉu ŝi povas pafi min frue?"

"No, she won't shoot you," I reassure him. I turn to my mom. "You won't, right?"

She crosses her arms sternly. "I can't make any promises."

"Oh, come on!" I complain. "He's like a puppy." I turn to Wulf. "A terrifying, on the run, deadly puppy."

"Now, Phantom, I don't think-"

"Please, pretty please with video games, cupcakes, and a cherry on top?" I beg.

Mom thinks about this. "Fine," she says. "I won't shoot."

I feel a catch coming on. "If…?"

"_If_ he leads us to civilization," she continues. "Maybe he can sniff out that telephone line you were speaking of."

"Oh," I say, shocked that her request is that simple. I was expecting some long tirade about dissecting his every cell or something like she usually did. I look at Wulf. "Could you do that?"

Wulf nods.

"Good. Then we have a plan. Walk, sleep, and get the hell out of here." I sigh. "So let's get a move on."

I would've resumed telling her, but the moment was lost the minute Vlad came onto showed up. She looks at me warily and starts walking as Wulf begins sniffing out the telephone line.

We walk silently for another hour or two (it may have been ten minutes…who knows? Time doesn't fly by so quickly when you're in a search party) until I hear my stomach start to rumble.

"God," I groan. "I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Ghosts don't eat," Mom says automatically.

I raise an eyebrow, hoping she'll correct her own mistake.

"Oh, yes," she says, facepalming. "Of course."

Wulf just looks confused. I guess hunger isn't a concept he is familiar with.

I clutch my stomach. I realize how bad it's aching. "Do you have anything? Berries? Sandwiches? Those little dehydrated packets of food that astronauts use?"

Mom felt around her utility belt, hoping to find something. "Hmm…I swore those pellets were here somewhere," I heard her mumble. Her face shows victory as she holds out two small red pills. "The Fenton Compacted Food Tablets!"

"Oh yeah," I say, remembering. "Just have to add water, right?"

She looks at me strangely. How would I, a strange ghost child, know how Fenton inventions work anyways?

I clear my throat. "So I've heard."

**#**

We search for another couple of hours until it starts to get dark. For the two spectral beings that means nothing, but for me I know we can't trek much longer. Besides, the ghost boy and I need sleep. At least Wulf (why it is spelled with a "u" I will never know) can stand watch for us.

I feel a small bit of sympathy for the child. After all, his own parents don't know of the trials he's gone through. I feel bad for even hunting him. Then again, he never told anyone that he's part ghost, so you can't blame me. Back then I never knew much better.

The fact that Danny knows is what surprises me the most. I know that he's been keeping secrets…but this? A friend who has ghost powers? The only people I saw him around where Sam and Tucker, and they couldn't be the ghost child. They were seen during his sightings.

He was about to tell me. But then that mist went off…

…right before Vlad, a ghost, showed up.

He had a ghost sense.

Just like Danny.

I resume my thinking. Same name, same friends, same ticks to know that he was nervous. All the slip-ups, the reason Danny was never there when Phantom was. Why he looked so similar to him…no wait, they looked absolutely identical. How had I not seen that before? Maybe the eye doctor was right. I do need glasses.

But he couldn't. No, he can't. He never will be able to be what I think he might be,

I start closing my eyes and yawning. Being assaulted by a former college buddy that turned out to be insane and evil is very tiring.

I look over to Phantom. He's got his head on his knees as he's curled up into a ball. I remember when Danny used to do that on car rides.

It would make sense. After, Phantom is—

No. No, he's not.

And with that thought, I drift into sleep…

…only to wake up to Wulf licking my face.

It's bright out and scorching hot. I wipe off the ectoplasmic slobber in disgust.

"Can you please learn to control your ghost hound?" I ask Phantom.

Phantom, who is also covered in slobber, glares at Wulf. "He's not my dog," he grumbles. "And if I could control him, I would."

I notice how bright it is for dawn. "What time is it?"

"Tagmezo," Wulf answers. I look over to Phantom for translation.

"It's noon," he says. He stretches. "The best sleep I've had in a long time. And probably the last time I'll sleep for over five hours for the next couple of years."

"Little dramatic, are we?" I ask, getting up.

"If you knew what I went through? It's kind of an understatement. But we better get going. Uh, Danny might be waiting. Who knows?" He's looking nervous again.

"Do you have your powers back?" I ask. Judging by the time difference, he should have them back by now.

"I don't know," he answers. "Let me check."

He sets himself next to a tree and starts concentrating. He puts his hand on the tree and it easily falls through. He then walks through the tree with ease.

"Hey!" Phantom says, surprised. "I got my powers back! Awesome!" He blinks. "Oh, what is that I hear? A voice? I better check it out."

"I heard nothing," I point out. I look over to the monstrous creature. "Did you?"

Wulf shakes his head. "Ne."

I glare at Phantom. "Don't think that since you have your powers you can easily slip out of your end of the truce. You will take me to the telephone so I can find my son."

"But-" he starts, but gives up and sighs. "Okay, fine. I guess I can fly you over there. Wulf, do you still have the scent?"

Wulf grins and nods.

He extends his hand out. What is he doing?

"Well?" he asks.

"What?" I ask back, repelled by his hand.

"It's not like I can magically move you around with my mind," he points out. "So come on."

"I can't fly with you," I say. "What if you drop me?"

He rolls his eyes. "If you're talking about by accident, I've carried a ten ton hulk of metal and ectoplasm across town. If you're talking about on purpose, what have these past 24 hours taught you? I have a soul. I won't drop you."

I hesitate. After all, he is a ghost. Even if he might be my so—

I shake the thought away. I will not think like that. Besides, it's only a hypothesis. You need trials and proof to conclude it.

But I take his hand anyway, and soon we're zooming through the air following a rush of black green that is speeding throughout the forest.

"How fast can you go?" I am asking/yelling. I'm barely holding on, but Phantom's got a good grip on me. Perhaps he won't let me go.

"112 miles per hour!" he answers through gritted teeth. "I'm only going 70 right now!"

I look behind me and realize how big this forest is. I can see a gray strip of concrete in the distance and a full line of telephone wires stretching out across the wilderness. I look ahead of me. The gray concrete is becoming much more visible, and is leading to a small building. Civilization! I've never been so happy about an old, creepy gas station before.

We're there in minutes as Wulf waits by the payphone, his tail wagging. I'd never guess that such benign behavior could come from such a vicious-looking ghost.

We land and I stumble to the ground as Phantom hovers, his legs now replaced with a ghostly tail. I keep staring at it, only because I've never really gotten so close to one. Out of curiosity and curiosity only I swipe my hand through it and it easily passes through.

Phantom begins to laugh. "Stop it, that tickles," he says, but then gets serious and clears his throat. "But seriously. You need to call for help." He looks around. "I guess I'll…um…I'll be heading off, then."

He starts to take off, but I grab him by the arm. "Oh, no, Mister. You are staying here until I find my son. You and him have a lot of explaining to do."

"B-but-," he stutters.

"No buts," I demand.

Phantom turns to Wulf. "You should probably get going before Walker finds you," he says. "I hear Alaska is nice this time of year."

Wulf nods. "Mi esperas vidi vin denove."

"Judging by today's events? There's a big possibility we'll see each other sometime in the future." I watch as he smiles sheepishly.

Wulf looks over to me, and then back to Phantom. "Ĉu vi intencas diri al ŝi?"

Phantom looks over to me with pained eyes and sighs as he turns his attention back to Wulf. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll see how things will work out." He smiles. "Ĝis, buddy."

Wulf smiles back. "Ĝis." He then proceeds to hug Phantom again, who looks like he's suffocating.

"Okay, I've heard of painful goodbyes but this just crosses the line!" he exclaims, causing Wulf to put him down. He then does the unexpected and slashes his claws into the air, revealing a ripped part of reality that is shaded in green. He then jumps through it and it closes.

"What was that?" I ask Phantom.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you," he realizes. "Wulf can sort of rip holes in reality to travel through dimensions."

"Interesting," I note. I turn to the payphone and realize that I actually have to _pay_, as in money. I search around my pockets, hoping to find a quarter to use. "I have nothing to pay with."

Phantom smirks. "I got it," he says. He then proceeds to reach his intangible hand inside the phone and pull out a quarter, tossing it to me. "There you go."

I glare. "You just stole from a payphone!" I point out.

He shrugs. "It was just a quarter. Besides, judging by that rust stain and the spider web on the receiver I don't think anyone has collected money from here in a long time."

He has a point. Besides, I've got to call Search and Rescue.

"Okay, fine," I give in. I turn to the phone. "Now just wait here until I call. You can help with the search party so that I can find Danny."

"Actually," Phantom says. I turn. He's rubbing the back of his neck, looking down. "About that…Danny, sort of…"

I raise an eyebrow. "Danny sort of…what? Is there something you've been keeping from me?"

"Danny sort of…" He trails off again.

"Do you know where my son is?" I ask.

"Yeah," he admits.

"Well then why didn't you tell me?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "It's…complicated."

"Where is he?"

He looks up. And there, from his waist, springs a single halo. It splits, one going down is body and the other one going up. The dirty, tattered black and white jumpsuit is replaced with jeans and a white t-shirt with accents of red. The boot are replaced with red sneakers. His gloved hands are bare. Phantom's green eyes turn blue, and white hair becomes black as night. But he's still got that guilty look on his face.

Danny smiles sheepishly and does a quick wave. "Hi, Mom."

**#**

**Yup. Another cliffhanger. Because I hate all of you.**

**No, actually I thought it just fit. I wasn't planning on putting you through that agony again, but it worked.**

**I'm thinking of having 1 or 2 chapters after this, and then this fic will be done. But, since it's all I've been reading this past couple of days, I'm planning on doing a series of Amethyst Ocean one-shots with usual somewhat-funny mediocre writing style. After this fic is done the first chapter of THAT fic will be up soon.**

**So, how did I do? Am I a complete failure as a writer or did I do an adequate job? Tell me in the reviews!**

**-ZG**


	8. Ten Questions

**Last chapter, you guys. Author's Note below for my thank you speech. You like me, you really like me!**

**-ZG**

**#**

I honestly don't know what I expected when I told my mom my secret.

Then again, I hadn't expected to tell her _now_.

But what else could I do? "Oh, hey Mom. Yeah, Danny Phantom suddenly flew off dramatically into the sunset. So we will probably never see him again. But guess what? I found you! So can we pretend like this never happened and move on with our lives?" That was not going to work.

So I found my opportunity. A dramatic opportunity. If my life had background music some there would be an instrumental building up the point where I changed back and then this awesome rendition of a theme song I'll never have…

So anyways, yeah. I didn't know what to expect when I revealed myself to my mom.

My first image was that she would pull out her bazooka and tell Phantom to get out of me. The second one was that she would suddenly strap me down and take me home for testing. The third was a gushy scene where she would say that she loves me no matter what and then we'd hug and eat giant gummy bears or whatever. An image that would make Sam gag.

Mom is just standing there, like she's piecing everything together. She's analyzing me and I'm trying to not make a break for it. After all, what I said was pretty stupid. "Hi, Mom?" What. No explanation or anything? Nope. Just…"Hi, Mom."

I clear my throat. "So, that just happened," I say.

That snaps Mom out of her trance. I'm expecting a tirade of how she's ashamed that I didn't trust her or for her to faint. I'm throwing that gushy scene out the window. There's no way a ruthless ghost hunter would be _that _forgiving of her son.

I gulp.

She simply turns around to the payphone and slips the quarter in. She dials a couple numbers and waits, keeping her attention away from me, for someone to pick up.

"Yes, I'm calling for Search and Rescue," she says calmly. Almost too calmly. Has she known this entire time? And all that lamp mumbo-jumbo was for _nothing_? "My son and I have been stranded here in the forest. No, I don't know which forest exactly, the brochure didn't say. Well, the brochure wasn't real. Nothing was real. Not even the camp. You know what? I'll explain it later. All that matters is that my son and I on a deserted road starving after almost two days of no food and water. Oh, you've tracked our location? Thank you, so much." She puts the phone back on the receiver and turns to me. "They'll be here in twenty minute to a half an hour."

I raise an eyebrow. What the hell just happened?

"You're not surprised?" I ask. "Dumbfounded? Ashamed? Freaked out? Confused? You're…okay with this?"

"Oh, honey, of course I'm not _okay_ with this," she says honestly. It stings, but it calms me down a little. It sounds a lot more like Mom. "I mean, my son has had ghost powers for a whole year and never told me! How would expect me to be?"

"I was sort of expecting you to try to shake the ghost out of me," I admit. "But…is it okay to you for me to be this way?"

"It certainly is going to take some getting used to," Mom answers. She smiles. "However, it's nice to know that you're carrying on the Fenton tradition. In your own special way, of course."

I smile back. "So, do you have any questions?"

She rolls her eyes. "Too many to count."

"How about…ten questions. Just to start off with."

Mom sits down against the payphone station. I, in turn, sit down on the burning concrete, and stand up immediately when I get the sensation of my ass being on fire.

"So let's see…you were obviously given these powers during the portal accident," she says to herself. "I mean, there's no other way. Unless you were blasted by a hundred ghosts or so. But there's a very small chance of that ever happening. So my first question would have to be…what powers do you have?"

I smirk. That's an easy one. "I got the standard stuff. Flight, invisibility, intangibility, super strength, and night vision." I inhale. "But I can also use my ecto-energy—or whatever it's called—to make shields, blasts, and rays from my hands and fingers."

"Show me," Mom demands.

I look round for a good target. I pick a tree and concentrate. After all, being in human form makes it harder to control my powers. Back when I first got them I kept falling through the walls or floating in my sleep. I concentrate my energy to my finger and fire at a nearby tree branch. The ray of otherworldly energy cuts the branch right off. I blow on the finger that is still sizzling from the expulsion of ectoplasm.

"I can also duplicate myself sometimes," I tell her. "But it usually ends up with me looking like some sort of genetic mutation gone wrong. Then again, I sort of _am_ a genetic mutation gone wrong…" I snap out of my thoughts. "Oh, and I also have a Ghostly Wail, but I can't show you that unless you want half of the forest wiped out and me passed out on the ground for a good four hours."

"Are you really that powerful?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"Well, I don't mean to brag," I say, "but…yeah. Sort of."

Mom looks down, trying to figure out the next question. "Who knows?"

"Sam, Tucker, and Jazz," I say simply. "Oh, and now there's you. And there were those two times where I revealed my secret to you and dad along with Lancer and the rest of the world. But Clockwork and the Reality Gauntlet fixed those up."

Mom just looks confused.

"Never mind," I say. "But yeah…you, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. Apparently Jazz saw me transform at some point and has kept my secret since."

Mom nods. "Fourth question…why was Walker after you?"

"Oh…" I start laughing nervously. This isn't going to end well. "So…I sort of escaped from ghost prison…"

"You went to PRISON?" Mom yells, shocked. She look like she's about to murder me.

"Hey, it was because I was trying to retrieve your anniversary present!" I defend. "Walker decided to go psycho on me and lock me in for 1000 years. If I didn't realize that humans act like ghosts in the Ghost Zone then I would've never escaped."

"How much do you know about the Ghost Zone?" Mom asks.

"I—um, well…where do I begin?" I try to think of a good starting point. "You know what? I'll show you the maps at home."

"There are maps?"

"Yeah. Sam, Tucker, and I mapped the whole place out when we took-" I stop talking. I should probably stop talking. She'd be pissed if she found we used some of her inventions. "Well, we mapped it out while you guys were gone."

"Is this why your grades have been slipping?" she inquires.

I wince. If she thinks this interferes with my school life she'll ban me from hunting. "Sort of. I mean, sometimes I have to fight the damn Box Ghost during third period and have to miss a test. And it's hard to sleep and do homework at night when Desiree is making some kid's wish a twisted nightmare." I cross my arms. "But I'll stick by it."

Mom gets up. "Would you mind if I took a couple blood and tissue samples?"

I grimace. "Promise not to dissect me?"

"Of course," she says. "Though, if I got you under some anesthesia maybe I could leg something from your leg-"

"Mom!" I exclaim. "No dissections. Not molecule by molecule or limb my limb. Just…no dissections."

"Sorry, sweetie," she apologizes. "My scientist side got the better of me."

"Fine. Just a couple samples, though. You know how much a hate getting my blood drawn."

"Okay," she agrees. "And my last question…why didn't you say anything?"

Wow. That one's a doozy.

"Uh, okay. Well…" I try to start it off. Should I lie? Or should I tell the truth? "I guess when the accident happened I was too scared to say anything. I mean, I woke up as a ghost. I hoped it would just go away but it didn't. And whenever I tried to tell you guys something got in the way; one of dad's inventions exploded, Jazz interrupted with her psycho knowledge, Vlad got in the way…and so I gave up. And when you guys started wanting to tear Danny Phantom to shreds I decided not to say anything at all. I mean, I don't expect you guys to be the kind of parents who would experiment on their own son, but my mind gave me the worst possibilities. So I didn't tell you…until now. For once the timing was right and nothing got in the way."

Mom takes this all in. "Well…this is certainly something we'll need to readjust to."

"No need," I dismiss. "I mean, I've been fine on my own with Sam and Tucker before. And from what I've learned when Jazz tried to join I think I can do better that way."

"I have no idea why you didn't run away when you could," she confesses. "I mean, we shot at you. Constantly."

"Most of Dad's guns don't work anyway. In truth, you guys weren't that big of a threat."

She looks annoyed and huffs. "Well thanks for the constructive criticism."

"No, no, no!" I cover up. My mouth needs to close. Now. "What I mean to say is that it didn't really matter if you guys were shooting at me. You and Dad are still my parents."

Mom smiles. "Thanks, sweetie."

There's a sudden whir above us. A white and red helicopter is steadily lowering itself to the ground. Search and Rescue is finally here.

A lady greets us with food and asks for details on how we got lost. We lie and say that we went exploring and couldn't find our way back. The lady asks about our scratches and we both answer that we fell in some blackberry bushes. We're given some food and water before we pile into the helicopter, sitting in the back where the lady is too busy giving stats and reporting to hear us.

"I used to really hate three day weekends," I say to my mom. It comes out of nowhere.

Mom, who is sitting next to me, looks over. "And why was that?"

"Too much ghost hunting," I tell her truthfully. "Back when I was a kid I used to love them. But since I decided to be a hero they'd been a personal hell."

"Well, I'm sorry this one didn't turn out as planned," she says. We're hovering over the edge of the forest now. We're near the entrance to Camp Your Death. If I didn't know any better, I think I can see the Fenton G.A.V. covered in green smoke and being put out by firefighters. That isn't going to look good on the insurance plan.

"No, don't be," I say. "Actually, I think I'm beginning to like them again."

_Aw, sappy stuff!_ Shut up.

"Well, the hell is over, honey," Mom reassures me. "Mostly, anyway."

I frown. "What else is there?"

Mom sighs and smiles. "Telling your father."

Oh yeah.

Well, here we go again.

**#**

**It's done! The first fanfiction I've ever finished! Completed! Hallelujiah, it can be accomplished!**

**Yay, sort of sappy ending.**

**I would've done another chapter, but everything fell into place here. It's a little fast-paced but it worked. Besides, I hate drawing thing out. It kills my soul.**

**I would like to thank all of my reviewers for their contributions. Your reviews made my day :D**

**I'll be posting those Amethyst Ocean one-shots very soon. My mind is overflowing with ideas. You haven't heard the last of Zipporah Grace! Even if that isn't my actual name… (Shhhh!)**

**-ZG**


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